


Wrong Number

by rpfwriters



Category: Actor RPF, American (US) Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Parks and Recreation RPF, jurassic world (movies) rpf
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Humor, Language, Light Angst, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Sex, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:16:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18377006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rpfwriters/pseuds/rpfwriters
Summary: You accidentally get a text message from someone that reminds you a lot of that guy from Parks and Rec.





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

 

You squeezed the bridge of your nose and blew out a heavy breath. It wasn’t that you hated your job, you loved it, really. Becoming a teacher had been a dream of yours since you could remember. It was the politics you hated, the hoops you had to jump through to make sure your students got the best education you could provide. Then there was the money out of your own pocket that you were sure how much longer you could afford. It was all wearing you down.

“Maybe one day,” you rasped after taking a long drink of wine. Another dream of yours was that everyone would understand just how difficult it was. You weren’t just a teacher. You were also non-judgemental, giving them an outlet they might not have otherwise, being an adult that listened, an adult that gave their shoulder for them to cry on. Some students had become close, almost as if they were your nieces and nephews. You always did lead with your heart.

Having finished grading the papers, you set them into your bag, poured the rest of the wine into the glass, and wandered into the living room where you sat on the couch, stretching your legs out on the table.

“Another exciting Saturday night,” you chuckled to yourself as you searched Netflix for something to watch.

You decided just decided on a show that never failed to make you laugh; Parks and Recreation, when your phone chirped. Flipping it over, you didn’t recognize the number that had sent you a text, so you ignored it. It chirped a minute later, making you groan.

Rather than ignore it again, you swiped the screen with your thumb, fulling intending to let the other person know they had the wrong number, but your thumbs halted the moment you saw the extremely attractive man holding up a fish proudly.

 

 _I’m sorry, but I think you have the wrong number_ , you quickly typed, resting the phone on your thigh as you took a drink, fully intent on watching the show.

Less than thirty seconds later, it chimed again.

_Shit. I’m sorry! Hope I didn’t bother you._

You paused the show before answering.  _You’re not a bother. I was just relaxing with some wine._

_I’m more of a beer guy, but I dig wine every now and again._

_That just means you haven’t had the right kind_ , you replied, gnawing on your bottom lip.

It wasn’t like you to text a complete stranger, but there was something about his picture that drew you to him. You wanted to know more about him, find out what his hobbies were - besides fishing, what he feared and loved, what made him laugh. Also, he was kinda hot. Sort of reminded you of someone, but you couldn’t place it.

_So I’ve been told._

Tucking your legs beneath you, you stared at the screen for a moment, unsure of what to say, if anything.

_That the only fish you caught?_

_Today? Yeah. They weren’t as frisky as yesterday._

_Well, it’s a good sized one for dinner._

_I was just about to fry it up._  He added a smiley emoji at the end, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Again, you weren’t sure what to say, but you found the thought of ending the conversation to be less than desirable.

_Beer batter, I presume._

_It’s like you know me, or something_. A laughing emoji this time.

You added the same emoji to your message.  _I don’t even know your name, yet, I know what you like to do in your spare time._

_Fair point. Name’s Chris. And you are?_

_Y/N_ , was your simple response. He had shared only his first name. Who were you to share more?

_That’s a beautiful name._

You couldn’t stop the blush that crept up your neck.  _I was born with it._

Chris sent another laughing emoji.  _Nice one!_

You responded with a winking emoji, nothing more, leaving the ball in his court to see if he wanted to continue the conversation. When Chris didn’t send another message, you couldn’t stop the way your heart sank. You didn’t know what you expected. Chris was a complete stranger who had messaged you on accident.

“Probably just being nice,” you murmured, tossing your phone down.

You resumed watching Parks and Rec, sipping your wine through two episodes before your eyelids started to grow heavy. It was time to brush your teeth and take a shower.

There was a light blinking on your phone when you crawled into bed. You wanted to ignore it, but found yourself reaching for the phone before you could convince yourself otherwise.

_Sorry ‘bout disappearing. I was hungry._

_Priorities, I get it._  God, you hoped he didn’t feel the self-pity on that comment. You really hated yourself sometimes.

_Hey, you ok?_

You blew out a shuddering breath as you rolled to your back. How the hell were you supposed to answer that? Chris was a complete stranger, he didn’t really want to hear about any of your problems, least of all the anxiety and depression that threatened to take control of your mind.

_Y/N?_

Shit, you had been lying there for almost five minutes.

_I’m fine, Chris. Thanks._

_I know we’re only chatting because I text the wrong number like a jackass, but I don’t believe you._

You hated the way your eyes stung as tears tried to form.

 _There’s nothing for you to worry about, I promise._  You decided at the last second to add a thumbs up emoji to emphasize how - not - okay you were.

_Would it be weird if I asked for a picture? Just so I know you ain’t lying._

Scoffing, you almost turned off your phone and forced yourself to go to sleep. You should have known better, he just wanted to know if you were pretty. That was what your brain tried telling you. Clearing your throat, you raised the phone and, despite thinking how horrible you looked, sent the first selfie you took.

It took Chris a full minute to say something.

_You’re gorgeous._

Prefacing your response with a blushing emoji, you answered,  _Nah, you’re just saying that._

_You calling me a liar?_

That made you laugh.  _Maybe I am._

You weren’t expecting him to send a picture, and when you saw it, you snorted in laughter.

 

_Legit my face right now._

_OMG are **you**  okay?_ You were laughing so hard it hurt to breathe.

_What? It’s my Elvis impression._

You covered your face with your hand as you continued to laugh and took a picture. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t care what you looked like.

_There’s your smile._

_It comes out every now and again._

_It should come out a lot more than that._

_And that, Chris, is a long story._

_I ain’t going anywhere._

At his words, your heart started pounding in your chest. It had all been fun and games up until now. So why did you feel like opening your closet and showing him all your skeletons. You couldn’t explain it, but you had this feeling he wouldn’t run away screaming.

_Maybe another day._

_Whenever your ready. I mean it. You can text me anytime._

There was this warmth in your chest that spread to your face. 

_I might take you up on that. Goodnight, Chris._

_Goodnight, Y/N._


	2. Chapter 2

The chiming of your phone blew away the cobwebs from your brain, the last remnants of sleep that you had somehow been able to find.

_You get a good night sleep?_

The words were blurry and it took you several minutes before you could read them.

_Not the best. You?_

Kicking off the sheets, you strolled into the bathroom and brushed your teeth.

_I tried._

Sitting on the toilet, you furrowed your brows.

_Something happen?_

Chris didn’t text you back right away, but those three dots were blinking. What could he be writing? You found yourself worrying that something might have happened to him after you bid him goodnight. But that was silly, right? You didn’t know the man. You had absolutely no right to be worrying about him.

Your phone chimed as you flushed the toilet. After washing your hands, you opened your phone.

_Honestly? I was thinking about you. I shouldn’t be, you’re a stranger, but… I felt this connection right away, and then we were having fun. You made me smile, Y/N, and not one of those fake ones, either. I was genuinely happy last night, for the first time in a long time._

You sat on the edge of your bed and let out a stuttering breath. There was no way this was real. You were still asleep, dreaming of the perfect thing he could possibly say. You shook your head and fell to your back, groaning as you pinched yourself. Nope. Definitely not asleep.

_Chris, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to tell me the truth._

_I wouldn’t lie to you._

Again, with saying the perfect thing. You pulled in several ragged breaths, trying to figure out how to phrase your question so you didn’t come off as a bitch.

_Is this real? I’m not being catfished. This isn’t a practical joke someone put you up to?_

You hit the green send button before you could chicken out.

_I’ve been known to be a bit of a jokester, but Y/N, no. I mean it._

Setting the phone on your stomach, you covered your face with your hands and rubbed at your eyes. God, you were tired, and not just from sleeping fitfully. When you did sleep, you dreamed about Chris, the man who accidentally messaged you and said all the right things. It had to be a cruel joke of some kind, there was no way something like this happened, especially to you.

_Y/N?_

He sure was persistent.

_Yeah?_

_Do you want me to leave you alone?_

Why did the thought of that make your stomach drop?

 _No,_  you hit send before you gave it another thought. You held your breath as the three dots blipped on your screen.

_Good, cuz I don’t want to._


	3. Chapter 3

Every night for the last two weeks, you had spent almost two hours texting with Chris. You still didn’t know exactly who he was, just that he was amazingly funny and kind and caring and inquisitive. He was always cracking jokes, trying to get you to smile. He was also there for you when you had a bad day, telling you all the right things, trying to convince you that you’re doing the best you can. And while you were texting him, you believed him, but once the phone was charging and you were in bed, all the negative thoughts came flooding back.

You really liked him, and you knew that the familiar tug on your heart when you got a new message. You were falling for him, and fast. Problem was, you didn’t know him, not really. Sure, he’d told you things about his childhood, growing up in Virginia, Minnesota, how they moved to Washington, and that was where he fell in love with all things theater. He did everything in his power to make it to Hollywood; including living in his car. But anything more than that, was kept close to the vest.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d get to find out more about him one day.

God, you hated your job some days. The children were a menace; sassing back, rolling their eyes, trying to convince you that their homework was eaten, not by a dog, nope, but by their hamster.

“Of all the stupid things…” you grumbled to yourself, slamming the door behind you.

You tossed your bag onto the counter and had a bottle of wine open before you even kicked off your shoes.

“T.G.I.F, am I right?” you chuckled to yourself, foregoing a glass and drinking it straight from the bottle.

Once your shoes were off, you strode toward your room, stripping out of your clothes, and pulling on one of your exes shirts that fell to your knees. You went back to the living room and dropped onto the couch, that was when your phone chimed.

 _Hey you, how was your day?_  he asked, sending a smiley emoji

Despite your mood, you couldn’t stop from smiling.  _The full moon has affected the children. I’m the only survivor._

 _That’s no good. Do I need to alert the authorities?_  he joked, adding a winking emoji at the end of it.

 _There are days,_  you admitted, taking a healthy pull of wine after hitting send.

He sent you a picture and you about choked on your wine.  _Oh, God. What’s happening there?_

_Nothing much. Just goofing off. But it made you smile, didn’t it?_

You were still laughing when you answered.  _Hell yeah. Thank you._

_Anything to get you to smile._

_Stop it, Chris,_  you scoffed, rolling your eyes.

 _I shan’t,_  he argued playfully.

You turned the phone over and sighed heavily, closing your eyes as your head lolled back. Chris was too sweet, you didn’t deserve it. You deserved to grow old, alone for the rest of your days.

_Y/N? You sure you’re okay?_

It took a minute before you could answer.  _No, but it’s not important._

 _If it matters to you, it’s important._  It wasn’t the first time Chris tried to convince you that you were worth so much more than you thought you were. You knew he meant well, but so did everyone else.

 _Chris…_  you started, but couldn’t figure out what you wanted to say next.

Your hovering thumb twitched and hit the send button, making you groan and toss your phone onto the other end of the couch as if it had burned you. Less than thirty seconds later, your phone was ringing. Yeah, ringing, not the simple chime alert you had set for incoming text messages.

“No, no, no, no,” you murmured as you lunged for the phone. The screen was lit up with Chris’ name and the picture he had accidentally sent you that started the two of you down this weird and crazy road that you wouldn’t get off of if someone held a gun to your head. Weird, right?

You accepted the call at the last moment. “He… hello?” you croaked.

There was a thick chuckle that you swear you felt rumble through you. “Y/N, that you?”

Your stomach flopped lazily at the rich tone of his voice. “Ye… yeah,” you stammered, your throat suddenly tight.

“I hope it’s okay,” he said shyly, “that I’m calling.”

Huffing a little bit, you sat back and took a drink. “It’s okay. I’ve actually been wondering what you sound like.”

“Oh yeah?” Chris sounded confused, as if you should already know what his voice would be like. “Anyway, tell me what’s happening.”

“It’s fine, Chris,” you lied, again.

“Y/N.” God, your name sounded good on his tongue. “You’re not fine, you need someone to talk to.”

“And you’re volunteering your services? You might regret that,” you chuckled, pinching the bridge of your nose.

You heard him grunt as he situated himself, and it went straight to your core. “Try me, sweetheart.”


	4. Chapter 4

It had been several months since Chris accidentally sent you a text, and the topic of you two possibly meeting one day was touched upon, but nothing had been set in stone. Work was insanely busy for him, as it was for you. Just because your students were off for Christmas and the New Year, didn’t mean that you were. There was a ton of curriculum to get planned, papers to grade, reprimands to be given; the list was endless, and all you needed was a break.

It was late, and your eyes were aching. You rubbed at them with your palms, hissing at the way they were burning with exhaustion. You turned off every light you as you passed them on your way to the bedroom. After stripping from your clothes, you slid between the sheets, sighing at the cool cotton against your skin.

Your phone chimed, and you were dead set on ignoring it, but then you remembered that Chris said he’d text you after he got off work. Sliding your finger across the screen, you opened the message, and when your eyes were able to focus, you gasped loudly at the picture he had sent.

Unable to come up with anything logical to say, all you sent was a winking emoji. Heat flooded through you at the sight of his bare chest and legs, the defined muscles he was so proudly showing you, and finally, your eyes settled on the bulge in his snug boxer briefs. Whew, boy, that was definitely enough fuel for your fantasies.

You were still staring at it, drool more than likely dripping from your chin when another text came through.

 _Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to send that to you,_  he apologized frantically.

Heat was coloring your neck and face when you responded.  _If you wanted to send a dick pic, all you had to do was ask._

_God, no. I wouldn’t do that. Ever._

Your heart sank at that. Not that you were normally one for receiving dick pics, but the rejection of it altogether made it feel like a bucket of ice water was poured over your head.

 _Okay, duly noted,_  was your clipped response.

 _I meant to send it to my trainer,_  Chris explained the reason for the picture.  _He’s out of the country on business and wanted to see how I’ve been keeping up with the regime._

You smiled sadly.  _You’ve been doing a good job, though I have nothing to really compare it to._

Chris turned the conversation around quickly.  _Hey, when I said no dick pics ever…_

 _It’s not your thing, I get it,_  you tried brushing it off.  _I was just joking around._

Those three little dots appeared on your screen for a while before disappearing completely. You rolled your eyes at the stupid way your heart dropped yet again right when the phone rang.

“Jesus,” you gasped after accepting the call. “Warn a girl when you’re gonna call.”

Chris dove right into the conversation. “It’s not something I normally do, it’s something private and personal. That’s not to say I haven’t ever sent one, but only when the recipient requests it.” You could hear him hold his breath, waiting for your reaction.

Your breath left you in a painful stutter. Now this was uncharted territory. Your insides were a twisted mess and your heart was hammering in your chest. Would he treat you differently if you said that yes, you wanted to see what his dick looked like?

“Say something, darlin’,” he rasped, his voice tight and anxious.

With your eyelids fluttering closed, you said, “Show me. Please.”

Chris huffed out a breath through his nose. “Gimme a minute.”

You imagined the reasons behind the sounds you were hearing. Chris setting the phone down on the bathroom counter as he stripped out of his boxer briefs, the tight white material clinging to his thick thighs, rolling as they’re pushed down. Then there’s a small groan from the man you were falling hard for, the one that you dreamt about nightly.

His gasp, as he undoubtedly grabbed his cock, went straight down your spine and settled warmly between your legs. You could hear the swipe of skin on skin, the hiss of a curse as his cock grew harder, and you couldn’t stop yourself from sliding a hand down your belly, over your panty-covered sex, and sliding your fingers back and forth, your arousal soaking through.

The phone that you were clutching chimed, sending a small vibration along your arm. You opened the attachment and didn’t bother biting back your moan of his name at the site of his impressive cock.

“Are you touching yourself?” he asked, his voice thick with arousal.

You hummed as you put the phone on speaker, turning up the in-call volume all the way. “Are you?”

Chris groaned low in his throat. You heard him get onto his bed and settle into the mattress, his sheets kicked away, his speaker phone turned on. “I am wishing it was your hand on my cock instead of mine.”

“Chris,” you whined, shifting your hips on the bed as you hooked your fingers into your panties. They were kicked away as soon as they were around your ankles. Bending your knees, you spread your legs. You slid two fingers between the swollen lips of your pussy, brushing your clit in a way that made you shudder.

“Talk to me, baby girl,” he purred. “Tell me what you’re doing to yourself.”

One hand was on a breast, kneading, rolling your pert nipple back and forth. “I’m squeezing my breasts, but my hands are too small to hold it all.”

Chris let loose a moan that sounded a lot like your name. “What else?”

“My pussy is wet, Chris, so wet for you. I’ve got two fingers in. I need more, I need, God, I need you,” you panted.

There was another moan, deeper than before, more feral sounding, and it made your back arch off the bed. You could hear him pumping himself after spitting on his hand. “I need you, too, Y/N,” he said, voice gritty, the sound of his cock in his fist growing louder.

You added another finger, wishing they were his, those thick digits you’d seen in his pictures. You envisioned what it would be like, your slick shining on him as he fucked you, the noises he would make, your gasps and moans echoing him.

“I… I’m gonna cum, Chris,” you whined, your clit throbbing between your fingers as you pinched it, working it in a tight circle, your fingers sliding in and out, faster and faster.

“Me, too, baby girl. Say my name when you do,” he said, his hand moving faster along his shaft.

“Come on, Y/N,” he urged when you let out a frustrated groan, your bottom lip between your teeth, legs wide and shaking. “It’s my fingers fucking you, baby, making you want to cum. Shit, I need you to cum,” he snarled.

You held your breath as you pictured it, his thick digits replacing yours, moving in and out, scissoring, stretching you, curling at just the right spot. It was the way he grunted your name that made you unravel. Static burst in your ears and behind your eyes as your orgasm surged through you, igniting everything it touched, a shattered cry of his name echoing in your room.

Chris was panting heavily, his hand working his cock faster, little grunts of pleasure falling sinfully from his lips.

“Chris, baby,” you purred, your voice low and freshly fucked. “Cum for me.”

He let loose a stuttering groan that sent a shiver down your spine as he came, and you wish you were there to see him, the way his eyes would roll back in his head, the way his cock would pulse, twitching heavily against your hands, your tongue.

Several long minutes passed before either of you spoke again.

“Thank you,” you murmured, an embarrassed smirk on your lips.

Chris hummed in confusion. “For what, baby girl?”

“It’s been a… a long time since…,” your voice trailed off.

“Me, too,” he concurred. “I’d… I’d like to do it again, though.”

You blew out a breath, thankful that he had been the one to bring it up. “Me, too.”

“Awesome,” he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Hey, Chris?”

“Yeah?”

You hesitated for just a moment. “When do you think you’ll be in the vicinity of Y/Town?”

Chris blew out a breath, one you didn’t like the sound of. “Not for a while. I’m pretty slammed with work.

“That’s okay,” you rasped. “Forget I asked.”

“Don’t shut me out like that, Y/N. Please,” he begged.

God, you hated how well he knew you already. “I’ve got two weeks off, that’s all. Thought maybe you could come out.”

“Two weeks, you say?”

“Yeah,” was your careful answer. “What are you planning?”

“Not planning, not yet. Just an idea.”

You perked up and pushed up to your elbow. “Tell me.”

“How would you like to come out here?”

“And where exactly is ‘out here?’”

Chris chuckled before answering. “I’m in Hawaii.”


	5. Chapter 5

There were butterflies during your flight to Hawaii. You tried to keep yourself occupied, but everything you tried, failed miserably. You found yourself staring out the window, checking your phone - despite being in airplane mode. Your legs were bouncing and it was driving the person next to you insane.

“It’s my first time going to Hawaii,” you explained with a shy smile. He didn’t say anything, just rolled his eyes and went back to reading his book.

You held your breath as the plane descended. The view was absolutely amazing. The colors were rich and vibrant, giving everything a lush feeling. You couldn’t wait to get off the plane and actually experience the culture, the people… Chris.

Expecting Chris to be waiting, you were a little let down when a man holding a sign with your name on it greeted you.

“Aloha,” he smiled widely, reaching for your suitcase.

You forced a smile as he removed it from your grip. “Aloha.”

“I bet you’re wondering where Chris is,” the man to your left laughed.

“Kind of, yeah.” You stepped outside and sucked in a breath at the wall of humidity you slammed into.

His laugh was rich as he tucked your luggage into the trunk. “It takes some time to adjust. Chris got called into work at the last minute. Asked if I could pick you up.”

“Thank goodness for air conditioning,” you murmured as the car was started. “I’m sure Chris appreciates your help. Do you work with him?”

“Nah, just a local brother trying make a living.”

You had absolutely no idea what he meant, but before you could ask, your attention was drawn to your window where all you could see were trees and the ocean, both vibrant and lush. God, it was beautiful, and you never wanted to leave.

By the time you realized where you were, you were yawning; the lack of sleep from the night before mixed with the nerves of being in another state, in the middle of the ocean, and meeting a man for the first time. You felt like you would pass out if you closed your eyes for longer than three seconds.

After the car rolled to a stop, you stepped out and looked around in confusion. Wherever you were didn’t look like you thought it would. There were rows of trailers, people roaming around, thick stacks of papers in their hands, racks of clothes being rolled to and from multiple trailers.

“You comin’?” your chauffeur called, your suitcase in his hand.

“Uh, yeah,” you stammered, jogging to catch up. “Where are we?”

“This is where Chris works,” was all he said as he led you to a trailer at the far end. He opened the door without knocking, urging you to follow him.

You jumped up the steps and almost slammed into someone that was most definitely not the man that picked you up from the airport.

“Y/N?” he asked. He didn’t wait for you to answer, just bent down and wrapped you in his arms, hugging you tight.

You couldn’t stop from smiling as your body responded to the voice it knew, the voice that had brought you to orgasm, the voice that had been there for you for the last handful of months. You looped your arms around his neck and sighed happily as his nose moved into your hair, his lips pushing against your crown.

“God, it’s good to see you,” he chuckled low in his throat.

Chris’ grip loosened and you stepped back, taking in the man before you. He was wearing a pair of dark boots, a pair of pants that were just shy of being skin tight, and a short sleeve off white Henley, the front buttons undone, dark chest hair peeking out, but that wasn’t what made you suck in a breath.

“Sweetheart,” he purred, crystal eyes cutting through you. “You alright?”

You swallowed around the knot in your throat. “You… I uh… are you… “

With a shake of your head, you threw open the door, only to slam it shut. There was a piece of paper with Chris’ name on it, but the last name… he’d never mentioned what it was before.

The door opened a second later and Chris was there, brows furrowed, confusion radiation from him.

“You’re Chris Pratt,” you cried.


	6. Chapter 6

“You’re Chris Pratt,” you rasped, finger pointed at the man that was now descending the steps.

“Who else would I be?” was his question.

God, you felt stupid. Did you really not know his last name? Then you thought of the pictures he had sent, you had thought how much the man that was texting you reminded you of Chris Pratt, but it couldn’t have been him, right? That would have been… weird.

The longer you stood there staring at him, the more shocked you were. “I… you… we were…”

Chris ushered you into his trailer, onto a couch, and grabbed a bottle of water, which you greedily drank. “Breathe, Y/N,” he instructed gently.

Keeping your eyes on his, you emptied the bottle quickly, gasping for air once you had swallowed the last bit. As if you were a frightened animal, he moved slowly as he plucked it from your hand and tossed it into the recycling next to the couch.

“How did I not know?” you managed to ask, hands shaking in your lap, anxiety bubbling in your chest, your eyes dropping to his large hands as they covered yours, as he knelt in front of you.

“I swear, I thought I told you,” Chris insisted, his voice soft.

You looked up at him and found that the initial shock of, not only meeting your Hollywood crush, but having had intimate conversations with your Hollywood crush had started to wear off. Not a lot, just a little bit.

Smiling gently, you turned your hands over and held onto his. “Hey, it’s okay, Chris,” you murmured.

“Yeah?” he asked, a dopey smile on his lips. “I just feel stupid about it.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “If anyone should feel stupid, it’s me. I made a fool of myself in front of the celebrity I’ve had a crush on for years.” You slapped a hand over your mouth after the words tumbled free.

Chris chuckled at that, his bottom lip quirking in such a way that your stomach flipped lazily. “Do continue, Y/N.”

“God, I need to just shut up,” you mumbled behind your hand, eyes screwing shut, a blush coloring your neck and cheeks.

“Nah,” he disagreed, gently pulling your hand down, gnawing at his bottom lip as his gaze drifted to your mouth. “I like it when you talk.”

“Chris,” you chuckled as your eyes rolled back. “Stop it.”

Somehow, he had situated himself between your thighs without you feeling your legs fall open, and you had to be honest, it was an incredible feeling. Chris was wide and solid, the weight of him was comforting in a way you hadn’t ever felt.

With his finger hooked under your chin, Chris shook his head. “You can’t make me,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. And just like that, the air thickened between the pair of you. It felt like there was a gathering of butterflies in your belly at the way Chris’ pupils started to blow, overpowering the azure orbs.

“Is… is it okay if I kiss you?” he asked, his breath hot against your skin.

Your head bobbed as answer, and you swear Chris breathed out, “Thank God,” before his lips were against yours.

There was a hum of contentment in the back of your throat as he kissed you, as his hand cradled the back of your head, those thick fingers tangling in your hair. You had grabbed the collar of his Henley and pulled him close until his chest was against yours. Your forearms rested on his shoulders as your hands worked through his hair, your nails scraping over his scalp.

It wasn’t until his hand fell to your hip that the kiss deepened; his mouth slanted over yours and you immediately opened yourself to him, reveling in the gritty moan that vibrated through him. Lust surged through you, igniting the ache between your legs, making you dizzy with desire.

Chris chased your lips as you pulled back to breathe. His name fell from your lips in the form of a moan. “We should stop.”

“Do you want to?” he asked, his lips trailing down the column of your neck.

**No, I want you to fuck me on this couch,** your brain screamed.

Your bottom lip was between your teeth as he sucked at the pulse point in your neck. “Not really,” you panted. “But I don’t really think we should be going at it while you’re at work.”

Chris’ fingers gripped your ass and tugged you into him. “I’m not working right now,” he countered, his teeth skimming against your skin, only to moan loudly in protest when there was a knock on the door.

“Go away,” he hollered over his shoulder.

“You’re on set in five.”

With his eyes rolling back, he answered, “I’ll be there.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the way he pouted. “There’s plenty of time, Chris,” you assured him, your hands cupping his face, your lips brushing his forehead.

“But I want you now,” was his gravelly answer.

“Priorities, mister,” you sassed, giggling and clinging to him when he lifted you from the couch as he stood.

His hands were on your ass and thighs, holding you tight to him, making sure you felt exactly how badly he wanted you as he kissed you deeply. With a whine in the back of your throat, he set you on your feet before adjusting himself.

“Don’t exactly want people to know how worked up you get me,” Chris huffed, a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

You suddenly felt nervous. “So… do I just… I mean… wait here?”

“Uh uh, sweetheart” he cooed, grabbing your hand and pulling you with him as he exited the trailer. “You’re coming with me.”


	7. Chapter 7

Everyone on the set of Jurassic World had been amazing, greeting you with wide smiles and happily showing you around, waving away your apologies at how giddy you were. You had loved the original Jurassic Park, and getting to see how things worked behind the scenes was pretty damn cool. You even got to watch as Chris shot several scenes.

The sun had just started its descent when Chris emerged from his trailer, he was wearing dark jeans and a simple white tee. He smiled as soon as he saw you, his hand held out for you to grab.

“You ready?” he asked after you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.

“Where are we going?” you wondered, humming in contentment as he pulled you into his side, his arm draped over your shoulder, feeling as if it belonged there.

“You’ve had a busy day,” he noted. “I figured we could grab a quick dinner and I could drop you off at… the uh, your hotel.”

Your heart dropped heavily. “Oh… I didn’t… I mean, I thought that you… that I would be -”

“Staying with me?” Chris interrupted, holding his breath as you looked up at him.

“If that’s okay. I mean, if you don’t want me -”

Chris’ lips were on yours, his knuckle under your chin, tipping your head back, deepening the kiss. With a sigh, you melted into him, your hand on the front of his shirt, sliding around his side. It felt as if he were trying to wrap himself around you as you pushed up to your toes, your nails scraping through his hair and over his shoulders.

“I want you,” he rasped, his forehead against yours. “Don’t you ever think that I don’t.”

You smiled warmly as you turned to press your lips to the palm of his hand. “I want you, too.”

Chris smirked and ducked down to smear a kiss against your lips. “Now that that’s settled, let’s eat.”

* * *

You were standing in the bathroom of Chris’ apartment, staring at your reflection, trying to get your heart to calm down. You had just brushed your teeth and hair, tugged on a shirt that fell to the middle of your thigh, and blew out a ragged breath.

God, you were nervous. Not because it had been a while since you had been properly laid, but because it was Chris Pratt, a frigging Guardian of the Galaxy. Yes, you knew it was just a movie role, but damn did he look good. And then there were the hundreds of texts and phone calls, some were risque, others were not, but none of that could prepare you for being in the same bedroom as him.

There was a knock on the door that made you jump. “You okay, Y/N?” Chris asked gently.

“Ye- yeah, I… I’m almost… I’ll be right there,” you stammered, your hand on your hammering heart.

Chris was sitting on the edge of the bed when you emerged, forearms on his thighs, head bowed, those wide shoulders flexing under the thin cotton shirt he had worn to dinner. You came to stand in front of him, your painted toenails made him huff and smile.

He looked up at you, his eyes dark, his hands coming to rest on your hips as you stood between his legs. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to sleep on the couch or if you were okay with sharing a bed.”

“I’m okay with sharing a bed,” you confirmed, your hands cupping his face, sighing at the bite of facial hair in your palms.

Chris’ tongue darted out over his bottom lip, his eyes settling on your mouth. “Yeah?” he chuckled, his hands moving to your ass, pulling you into him.

“Oh, yeah.” You moved deliberately slow as you sat on his lap, your knees notched against his hips, your ass between his thick thighs, and then you were kissing him feverishly.

Chris moaned low in his throat when you bit his bottom lip, soothing it a moment later with your tongue. He rocked your body against his, and his hardening cock rubbed deliciously between your legs. His beard burned a trail down your neck as he kissed your flushed your skin, but you were feeling greedy, and wanted him to kiss nothing else but you. You grabbed him by the crown and ducked down, kissing him breathless as your hips rolled.

“Y/N,” he panted, his chest rising and falling under your hand, his heart feeling like a trapped hummingbird. “We do- why don’t we slow down.”

You swallowed around the sudden knot of disappointment in your throat. “Oh. Yeah, sure.”

“Baby girl,” he cooed, his arm tight around your waist, your chin trapped between his finger and thumb. “It’s not that I don’t want to. You know that I do, you can feel it.” Chris rolled his hips, moaning at the welcoming damp heat of your pussy through your panties.

“Yeah? “Then what is it?” you asked softly.

Chris sighed before answering you. “I’ve been burned in the past by jumping into a relationship too fast.”

“What about our NC-17 phone calls?” you giggled, your cheeks flushing.

“The best phone calls I’ve ever had,” Chris answered, stretching his neck up to kiss you sweetly.

“It’s not me?” You were being annoying and stupid, but your brain wouldn’t shut up.

Chris shook his head and cupped your face. “No, doll,” he insisted. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.” His bottom lip quirked in a way that made your stomach flop lazily.

“So, no sex,” you stated, your voice low and honeyed. “But we can make out, right?”

“Fuck yes,” Chris huffed before crashing his lips to yours in a searing kiss. Taking you with him, he fell to his back.


	8. Chapter 8

It was your fourth day in Hawaii, and the two of you decided to hang out at the beach, soak up some rays, play in the surf, wander around the town, buying trinkets and souvenirs; you know, typical tourist activities. By the time you set foot in the hotel room, you were exhausted.

You fell onto the bed, saying, “I’m just going to rest,” and before you knew it, Chris was rousing you.

“What time is it?” you mumbled, rubbing at your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“Nearly eight,” Chris answered warmly. “I thought you should eat something.”

You hummed in appreciation as he helped you stand. “God, I love you.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even think about engaging the filter onto your brain, the one that kept all the stupid thoughts inside your brain.

Chris’ brow arched as he looked at you. “What, now?”

“I uh,” you swallowed around the knot in your throat as your neck and face flushed. “I meant to, uh… not say that.” Your eyes fell shut, squeezing tight at the realization of just how stupid you sounded. You wanted to disappear from the face of the planet. You fully expected for him to back away, to tell you that you needed to gather your things and leave, to tell you that he never wanted to see you again. But neither of those things happened.

Chris’ hands were on your face and he was kissing you gingerly, his dry lips catching on the swell of your bottom lip, his nose bumping yours. “I love you, too,” he rasped, his crystal eyes darting back and forth between your now wide ones.

Your chin was quivering as you tried to hold yourself together. “You do?”

“I have for a while,” he admitted softly. “I just… I didn’t want to do or say anything too soon, ya know?”

“Yeah, I know,” you chuckled wryly.

Chris let out a shuddering breath as his eyes scanned your face. “It’s not too soon, is it?”

You were shaking your head and your hands were pressed to his chest. “I don’t think so. I mean… we’ve talked every day for hours at a time, gotten to know each other,  _really_  know each other. And now here, in Hawaii…” your voice trailed off as his features softened, as his thumb swept along your jaw, down the column of your neck, goosebumps raising on your skin.

There was a moan bubbling in your throat, but you didn’t want it to escape, not yet. You bit your bottom lip and slid your hands over the wide expanse of his shoulders, down his chest and stomach, hooking your fingers into his belt.

“Baby girl,” Chris rasped. “We don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you assured him, swiftly unbuckling his belt, his hips jerking as you went to work. “Do you know what else I want to do?”

You watched as his pupils blew, consuming the golden pine irises. “What? Tell me,” he pleaded, lips chasing yours after you pressed them to his.

“I want to taste you.” You popped the button of his jeans and worked the zipper down.

An obscene moan fell from Chris as you dropped to your knees, pushing down his jeans and boxers as you went, looking up at him through your lashes, your tongue dancing over your bottom lip. With a smirk, you dropped your gaze and sucked in a breath. Even in its current state, half-hard, surrounded by a thatch of dark blonde hair, it was a beautiful sight. Chris was thick and long, veins popping to life as blood rushed to his groin, his velvet cock-head just begging to be sucked and licked.

After ripping off his shirt, Chris watched as you gripped his balls with one hand while stroking him with the other, slapping his seeping tip against your tongue. He was the perfect mix of sweet and salty, so you swallowed the pre-cum greedily. With your lips wrapped around his cock-head, you sucked and pumped him until he was hard, which didn’t take much prompting.

His head fell back as he moaned your name, grinding it out through his teeth. He wound a hand into your hair, urging you faster, thrusting himself deeper until you choked on him. With your hands on his thighs, you focused on breathing through your nose so you didn’t gag. Again and again he choked you and every time he did it, heat rushed down to your core making your pussy ache. You hummed against his cock, scraping your teeth over the vein that throbbed against your tongue.

Hissing, Chris pulled on your hair and his cock fell from your mouth with a loud, wet pop. “My turn.”

You were off your knees, your shirt was ripped off, and you were on the bed before you could register what was happening. He drug his hands down your belly and hooked his fingers into the band of your shorts. Pulling them down, he nipped at the exposed skin below your belly button and hips, nudging your legs apart with his chin.

Chris, with his nose between your legs, took in a deep breath and drug his middle finger through your folds.  “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so wet.”

You whined and pushed back, hoping he would fuck you with his hand and mouth. He answered your almost silent wish, pressing his tongue flat against your clit, working his tongue back and forth until the muscle was pushing into you. He repeated the process several times before finally driving his tongue in, devouring you as if he were a starving man and you were his last meal.

You gripped the sheets so hard your knuckles hurt, grunting his name and begging for more. So, when he sought out your clit and circled it with his middle finger, you were gone. You came on his mouth and hand, the delicious bite of his stubble on your inner thighs adding some pain to the pleasure.

Chris stood, wiping your juices off his chin and then sucking them off his fingers. The buzzing in your ears hadn’t completely gone away when he spoke, “So sweet, baby girl.”

Looking at him with heavy lids, you watched as he kneeled between your legs, reached down, and pressed his hand against your pussy, dragging two middle fingers through your sensitive folds. Gathering your slick, Chris spread it over his cock, only to lick off the rest, his eyes rolling back as he groaned.

“Chris… please.” You didn’t care how pitiful or needy you sounded. You craved one thing, and one thing only.

“Please what, baby girl?”

You shimmied your hips, his cock brushing against you as you did. “Fuck me.”

With a sexy snarl, he grabbed your hips and crashed into you, driving the air from your lungs when his pelvic bone hit yours. There was no waiting for your body to adjust to him, no giving you time to catch your breath, because that’s not what you wanted. You needed to be fucked, and Chris gave you exactly what you asked for.

Chris’ hips worked in tight and controlled thrusts, his thick thighs spread wide for leverage, spreading your thighs further apart with every connection. His mouth sought out your skin where he bit and sucked dark marks onto you, his tongue soothing the area a second later. It was intoxicating, the heavy drag of his cock, the way it twitched with his heartbeat, the large vein on the underside pulsing hypnotically. Even the way he was desperately clinging  to you, arm under your back, fingers digging into your shoulder, yanking you into him with every thrust. The pair of you were reduced to grunts and groans, chasing your release with every slap of wet skin that filled the room.

You came first, like a flash grenade went off in your mind. Everything went white and buzzed as you screamed his name. He came with a gritty shout of your name, his hips stuttering before he plunged into you one more time, your legs around his waist, holding him there, your hands on his back.

Dipping your head, you caught his lips in a searing kiss, surprising even yourself with the intensity of it. Chris’ hand was in your hair, on the back of your head, holding you to him as he rolled away, landing on his side with a groan.

“Always hated that part,” he murmured with a chuckle.

You agreed with a discontented hum before shifting to your side and sitting up, kicking your legs off the bed to stand.

“Hey,” he protested, his hand shooting out to grab yours. “You ditchin’ me?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle as you looked at him over your shoulder. “After the most amazing sex I’ve ever had? Hell no.”

Chris beamed up at you, pulling you down for a leisurely kiss. “Then where you goin’?”

“To take a shower. You wanna join me?”

“Hell yeah,” he answered quickly.


	9. Chapter 9

While being in Hawaii with Chris was a dream come true, you needed to get back home, if only for the simple reason of finishing up your teaching plan and grading papers. Not that you wanted to leave Hawaii and the man of your dreams. You could spend the rest of your life there, with him, waking up everyday wrapped up in his arms, his lips moving down the column of your neck… You couldn’t think about that. Because, if you did, you wouldn’t get any work done, and now that you were home, the kids’ education came first.

You had just dropped onto your bed, your shoes still on, your suitcase on its side, when your phone rang.

“Hi, Chris,” you said with a smile.

“Hey, darlin’,” he cooed, sending a wave of goosebumps down your neck. “You get in alright?”

“Just got home,” was your tired answer.

There was some shuffling in the background, probably the script for the next day’s shoot. “I’m sorry, darlin’. You’re going straight to sleep, I hope.”

“I should unpack.”

“Uh uh,” Chris argued playfully. “You need your rest.”

You kicked off your shoes as you yawned. “Yes, sir.”

Chris gave a low growl in the back of his throat. “Y/N, you know what that does to me.”

“I sure do,” you giggled.

“I wish you hadn’t left,” he honest-to-God moaned.

You felt your stomach twist at that. “I’m sorry,” you murmured.

“Hey, no,” Chris hummed. “I just miss you, that’s all.”

“If you say so.” Your anxiety had started the moment you stepped onto the plane, and the feeling that you had disappointed him wasn’t helping things.

“I do say so. You have a job to do, I get it.”

Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, you gave a shy smile. “Okay, Chris.”

“Now that that’s settled, you get some sleep,” he commanded gently.

“Goodnight, Chris,” you yawned. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Thanks to the time zone change, you were up bright and early, brewing a pot of coffee, getting the papers in order to grade. Wearing a pair of comfy sweats and a shirt you had stolen from Chris, you sat down at the table and got down to business.

It was several hours later when your phone started buzzing, and not the occasional notification either, it was continuous, irritating, grating on your nerves.

Instagram, Twitter, and text messages from several of your friends were flooding in. Confusion settled heavily in your brain as you read through them. It was only until you opened Twitter that you realized what the commotion was all about.

You had been tagged in a picture that had been taken during your time in Hawaii. It was of you and Chris on the beach, sharing an intimate moment, his mouth on yours, his arms around you, waist deep in the ocean.

“Oh, no,” you gasped, your hand over your mouth.

Scrolling down, you saw more pictures; the two of you walking around town and holding hands, sitting at a table while eating at an outdoor restaurant, casually strolling along the beach while wearing your swimsuit, his arm draped over your shoulders, yours around his waist.

The notifications kept rolling in; comments on the pictures posted, some of them supportive, most of them not. Someone else had tagged you in a picture that had clearly been photoshopped, and it was… upsetting.

You were just about to turn off your phone when it rang. It was a number you didn’t recognize, so you almost didn’t answer it.

“He- hello?” you stammered, your heart in your throat.

It was Chris, and he didn’t sound happy. “I swear, I’m going to kill those paparazzi.”

You let out the breath you had been holding and tears clouded your vision. “They violated our privacy.”

“I know, darlin’,” he ground out. “I’m sorry about that.”

Shrugging, you swiped a hand over your face. “Part of dating a celebrity, I guess.”

“Still doesn’t make it right.” There was someone talking to Chris in the background, nothing you could understand, but their voice was familiar.

“Is everything okay?”

Chris was back a moment later. “Sorry about that. My agent is going to put out a statement. Is there anything you would like to have her say, or not say, for that matter?”

You had absolutely no idea what to say. “No, I mean, I don’t know.”

“We’ll figure it out,” he assured you, his voice soft and kind. “Are you okay?”

You gave another shrug as more tears streamed down your face. “I guess.”

“Talk to me, darlin’.”

“I just… I don’t know. I read through some of the comments, and they’re cruel, Chris,” you rasped.

Chris let out a heavy sigh. “Darlin’, turn off the notifications and don’t read any of the comments, okay? It’ll only drive you crazy.”

“Yeah, I can… I can do that.”

“Good girl,” Chris hummed. “Is there anything you need?”

“You,” you answered, emotion clogging your throat. “Here with me.”

“I’d be there in a heartbeat if I could.”

You knew he couldn’t just up and leave, he had his own job to do, but that didn’t stop your heart from clenching. “I know.”

“I’m sorry to cut this short, but they’re calling me back to set,” Chris explained, and you could hear the distress in his voice.

“Call me when you’re done?”

“It’ll be the first thing I do,” he assured you.

After hanging up, you followed Chris’ instructions; turning off all notifications for social media and ignoring any new comments that hadn’t been there before. You quickly tapped out a response to the messages from your friends, including the one from your mom that came while you were on the phone, confirming that yes, it was true, you were dating Chris Pratt, and that you would appreciate it if they didn’t hound you with questions and unnecessary commentary.

It was only mid-morning and you were exhausted. Pushing away from the table, you wandered into your room, plugged your phone into the charger, and slid into bed. Grading the papers could wait several hours.


	10. Chapter 10

Two months after the news broke that Chris Pratt was no longer single, you had settled into a new schedule. Normally, you jogged alone in the mornings; now, two of your best friends accompanied you, the three of you carrying mace if there were ever a rogue paparazzo. As much as you liked going to the local grocer, you placed your order online, and an hour later, the doorbell was ringing. The blinds remained mostly drawn and, at night, only two or three lamps were turned on.

Thankfully, you weren’t bothered too much at the school. Mainly because the school didn’t allow journalists or paparazzi on the property at any given time. You made a mental note to thank them in a special way.

The students, however, were a completely different story. They were eleven and twelve years old, and they definitely knew who Chris Pratt was; mainly because of Marvel casting him as the lead in Guardians of the Galaxy. Well, that and the upcoming movie; Jurassic World.

Seeing how you had the inside scoop, the group of children had been relentless in their thirst of all things Guardians and Jurassic World. After what felt like hundreds of questions later, you made a new classroom rule; one question about Chris Pratt a day. Not one question per student per day, one question from the group every day.

While most of your life and routine had changed, one thing remained constant; your nightly talks with Chris, and tonight was no different.  

“Guess what,” Chris chuckled low in his throat.

You were on your back, legs dangling off the bed. “What?”

“You have to guess.”

You gave a soft hum as you pretended to think about what he wanted to tell you. “I don’t know.”

“That ain’t a guess, darlin’,” he teased, the baritone of his voice bringing back memories of the long nights in Hawaii.

“Alright, alright,” you huffed in faux irritation. “You’re almost done filming?”

“Close,” Chris cooed. “We actually wrapped earlier this morning.”

Your heart started hammering in your chest. “Yeah? So… what does, uh, what does that mean?”

The doorbell chimed moments after he said, “You tell me.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you gasped.

Chris was laughing loudly. “Come on, darlin’. Aren’t you gonna get that?”

“What’d you do, Chris?” Your legs were shaking as you stood and wandered through the living room and into the kitchen to your back door.

“You’ll see.” Hearing his voice on the other side of the door, you hurriedly threw the locks and ripped open the door.

After putting the phone on the counter, you launched yourself at him, thankful that he was ready and caught you, securing you to his chest with one arm. You were kissing him, moaning at the way he responded; his now phoneless hand on your ass, his mouth slanting over yours, his tongue gliding along yours.

“Now, that’s what I call a warm welcome,” he panted when you parted, his forehead on yours.

“I missed you,” you admitted, your nails scraping against his scalp.

“I missed you, too.” Chris set you on your feet, grabbed his bag, and stepped into the house.

After throwing the lock, all you could do was stare. He was actually there, towering over you, his bottom lip quirking as he struggled to keep from smiling.

“What?” you literally giggled, blushing from the intensity of his gaze.

“I’m just happy to be here with you,” was his answer.

You blushed harder and slapped his arm playfully. “Why didn’t you tell me you were comin’?”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” Chris insisted, bending down to kiss you sweetly.

You were humming against his lips and gripping the lapels of his jacket. “You know what you need?”

“Besides you?” he chuckled, toeing off his shoes, lips brushing against yours. He bent at the waist and wrapped a thick arm around your waist, pulling you off of the floor when he stood.

You gave an excited shriek and secured your legs around his waist, moaning heavily at the familiarity that rolled through you, at the way his mouth burned a trail up and down your neck before kissing you fiercely.

“Jesus, baby,” he grit out, cock twitching behind the denim of his jeans. “I fuckin’ missed you.”

A shiver shot down your spine and settled heavily between your legs. “Show me,” you gasped, your nails scraping along his scalp.

Chris chuckled low in his throat and looked down at you with a hunger you hadn’t seen before. His bottom lip was between his teeth as he set you on the table, his hands sliding beneath the sweatshirt you were wearing You hissed as his cold fingers danced up your sides, offset by the heat rushing through you.

“Chris,” you moaned.

“I know, baby,” he breathed, pushing your sweatshirt up and over your head, tossing it behind him, his head dropping, his tongue darting out to lick hungrily at your breast. He moaned as he pulled the nipple into his mouth, the sound vibrating through you, making you tingle with need.

You leaned back, your hands on the table, your legs still around Chris’s waist, more than willing to let him have his way with you. And he was determined to do just that.

He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your yoga pants, roughly pushing them down, his fingers seeking and finding your damp panties, a smirk crossing his lips when he realized how wet you were, how much you needed him, wanted him.

“Mmm, all for me, sweetheart,” he hummed. “Fuck, I wanna taste.” He dropped to his knees, pulling you to the edge of the table, his warm lips on your inner thighs, the stubble on his chin and cheeks scratching you.

The first swipe of his tongue through the lips of your pussy sent a jolt of electric, pulsing heat through you, lighting every nerve ending on fire. God, it felt like an eternity since you’d been with Chris; his every touch was like a match to kindling. When his mouth closed over you, you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that left your mouth, Chris’ name a curse on your lips.

You propped a foot onto his shoulder, using it for leverage as his tongue and teeth explored you, tasting you, teasing you. A thick digit slid between your folds, teasing you until you were whining, begging to feel more of him. With a flick of his tongue on your clit, he did as you requested, pressing one finger into you, a second joining in on the fun several moments later.

Chris had you whimpering and moaning as he urged you to the edge of oblivion. Your hands were in his hair, tugging on the short strands as electricity started sparking under your skin, as the coil in your gut tightened until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fuck, Chris,” you gasped. “I’m… I’m gonna -”

He chuckled low in his throat as his lips sealed around your clit, his teeth scraping over the sensitive bud. His dexterous fingers twisted and crooked, dragging deliciously against your fluttering walls, hitting your g-spot with precision.

You came apart with a gritty cry of his name, your back arching off of the table, your legs shaking around his head. Chris worked you through the orgasm, only stopping when you tugged roughly on his hair. He gave a throaty chuckle before he bent down and dropped slick kisses to your stomach and breasts, capturing your lips in his for a searing kiss. A moment later, his arms were around your waist and he was pulling you off of the table, a hand tangled in your hair, controlling the kiss as he carried you into your bedroom.

It was Chris’ voice that woke you. He was on the phone, in the living room, and he did not sound happy. You slid out of the bed and quickly got yourself presentable - brushed your hair and teeth, went to the bathroom, washed your hands, threw on Chris’ button-up shirt - and ventured out of your room.

“Baby, what is it?” you inquired from behind the couch.

Icy eyes drilled into yours as he held up a finger. “I want them taken down and I want that asshole fired.”

Oh, boy. That couldn’t be good. You hadn’t seen or heard him that angry since the news broke that the two of you were a couple. Shit, that got your mind going.

“I don’t fuckin’ care,” he growled, pacing back and forth across the room. “It’s private property; he trespassed and took pictures of an intimate moment.”

You held your breath as you rounded the couch, praying that it wasn’t what you feared it was. Shit. SHIT. It was worse than what you had imagined it to be.

_Chris Pratt showed up in Y/T last night, surprising his current flame after filming wrapped on Jurassic World. As you can see, the two wasted no time getting down and dirty._

There were a handful of photos attached, a couple of them showing various angles of Chris’ wide shoulders between your legs on the kitchen table. Nothing more could really be seen; your face hidden by shadows and your breasts censored with black boxes. Then there were the ones of Chris standing, you pressed to his chest, the pair of you kissing before disappearing from view.

“That’s not good enough,” Chris retorted with a scoff. “They need to learn that -”

Embarrassment and resentment surged through you, blurring your vision and twisting your gut. You tore out of the room and dropped in front of the toilet, emptying the meager contents of your stomach. You retched until there was nothing left, until your sides and back hurt.

You were crying in the corner of the bathroom when Chris found you, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around your legs, head hung. When Chris dropped down next to you, you curled into him and cried harder.

“I’m sorry,” you sputtered through your tears.

“Baby girl, no,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “You ain’t got anything to apologize for.”

You tucked your head into his neck, no doubt staining his shirt with your tears. “I… I didn’t… the blinds were open.”

Chris pulled you into his lap and held you tight, humming gentle assurances into your hair. “This is not your fault. Those… those vultures can’t get it through their thick heads that not everything needs to be shared.”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore.” The words were out of your mouth before you could even wrap your head around the implications of what you were saying.

“Wait, what do you mean?” he wanted to know, his heart hammering against your cheek.

You pushed out of his grip, stood up, and backed away, despite his intention of keeping you in his lap. “This, you and me, some asshole behind a lens analyzing everything I do, everything  _we_ do, spying on us. I can’t do it.”

What were you doing? You were head-over-heels in love with Chris, ready to spend the rest of your life with him should he want that. At the same time, you felt crowded, not by Chris, by the men that had been camped outside of your home for the last two months, by the man that had intruded upon your personal life. You almost felt trapped, and you needed to find a way out.

“No,” he argued, standing tall, confusion etched on his face. “You don’t mean that. You  _can’t_  mean that.” Chris made to cross the room, but you were shaking your head.

“I mean it, Chris,” you said tremulously, fresh tears in your eyes.

“You don’t,” he insisted desperately.

You shook your head. “You need to find someone that is cut out for this. Clearly, that’s not me.”

“I don’t want anyone else,” Chris ground out through his teeth. “I want you. Only you.”

You gave a sigh of exasperation as your heart started to crack. “Chris, please,” you begged him, a hand over your mouth.

“I’m not leaving, baby girl,” he announced. “You can scream at me, throw things at me, but I will not leave you. Not now. Not ever.”

“They are outside my home, Chris,” you went on to explain. “They’re harassing me as soon as I get off of work, all because we’re dating. And now there’s pictures of us fucking. I can’t… I can’t do this!”

Chris closed his eyes and pulled in a deep breath. “The pictures are already being removed, the photographer that took them is under investigation, as is the magazine that employed him.”

“What… what about everyone that saw them? I’m sure they’re plastered everywhere now.”

He risked taking a step closer, nodding in approval when you didn’t back away. “A letter from my lawyer and agent will be hitting the web in about five minutes, demanding any pictures be taken down. If they refuse, they’ll be sued. As for the public, well, as long as they don’t post it anywhere, there’s nothing that can be done.”

Your racing heart started to slow down only slightly, bringing with it the realization of everything you had just said. Chris was still approaching slowly, a wary look in his eyes, and it made you feel terrible. You had just told the man that you loved that you wanted to end things. No wonder he looked like he was going to cry.

Chris reached you and wrapped you in his arms where you apologized into the crook of his neck. “It’s just not something I’m used to. It scares me,” you explained.

“What scares me is the thought of losing you. I can’t lose you, Y/N,” he sighed.

“You won’t,” you promised, leaning back to look at him. “I’m sorry I freaked out.”

Chris carried you into the bedroom where he sat down on the edge of the bed, maneuvering your bodies until the two of you were lying down. “Move in with me,” he suggested softly. “I have a farm in Washington. It’s remote and there’s not a chance of any surprises by the paparazzi.”

“But… my job, Chris,” you argued weakly.

Truth be told, you hadn’t been happy with your job for a while, and had been thinking about looking for something else. The opportunity to do so hadn’t been presented, until now.

“You can still teach, if that’s what you want to do. There are many teaching jobs open,” Chris said. “Even if you don’t want to work, you don’t have to. Washington is a beautiful state to live in; you can do anything you want.”

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips. “Even if I wanted to stay home all day and sleep?”

 _“Anything_  you want,” Chris chuckled, his eyes finally lightening.

“Walk around the house naked?” you suggested playfully, your leg draping over his hip.

“Especially that,” he breathed against your ear lobe before capturing it between his teeth.

“Good, that’s good.” You pushed your head into the pillow, exposing the long line of your neck to him.

He rolled you to your back where he settled heavily between your thighs. “Is that a yes? Will you move out to Washington with me?”

Your answer came out in the form of a ragged whisper, barely audible. “Yes.”

“Say it again,” Chris growled, his chest vibrating with the intensity of it.

“Yes,” you obliged, adding more volume to it as his cock swelled against you.

“Say it like you mean it,” he ordered you, his teeth scraping over your pulsepoint.

Jolts of pleasure zipped down your spine. “Yes,” you cried out.

You could hear the wicked smile in his voice as he praised you, “Such a good girl.”

Chris kissed you fiercely before ripping open the shirt of his you were wearing. Buttons bounced and skittered along the floor, but he didn’t care. You were all that mattered, and if he had to spend the rest of the day showing you, he sure as hell would.


	11. Chapter 11

Shortly after moving to Washington with Chris, he was off filming another movie; The Magnificent Seven. You had wanted to go with him, but you also needed some time to yourself. Chris had been right, the farm was secluded, far enough away from town and prying eyes. He wanted to make sure that you got plenty of alone time, though you weren’t really alone.

There were plenty of sheep and cattle to keep fed, to clean up after on a daily basis. Enough so that you stayed fairly busy on a day-to-day basis. Granted, Chris had hired several other men to help when he wasn’t around. There were times that you went fishing, the same place where Chris ventured, where he had sent you the picture that started your relationship. It was peaceful and serene, and absolutely perfect.

Early evenings were your favorite time of the day. The sun dipped down in the sky, its colors glittering on the lake like bright gems, acting as an opening number for the stars that would emerge. More often than not, you’d wrap a blanket around yourself and sit on the porch swing, staying there until the cold seeped into your bones, leaving your teeth chattering and your fingertips numb, nothing a hot bath couldn’t fix.

Chris called you every chance he got. It wasn’t daily, but it was enough to help ease the discomfort of being so far away from him. He was always smiling and bubbly, telling you about goofing off with his costars. In exchange, you told him about what you did to occupy your time in his absence.

Sleeping without him was hard. You’d grown accustomed to the thick weight of him at your back, pressed to your chest, legs tangled together, his fingers in your hair, lips pressed to your forehead. You’d never slept as well alone than you did with him. Last night was no exception.

You tossed and turned, couldn’t get comfortable long enough to fall asleep. It was too hot, so you kicked off the blankets. Then, it was too cold, so you pulled them back on. One leg out, both legs in, beating your pillow into submission; nothing worked. The only reason you fell asleep after two in the morning was because you hadn’t slept well the night before and you were exhausted.

It was raining when you woke, the sky grey and blurry, streaked with lightning, thunder booming through the clouds, shaking the house, scaring the animals. They scurried across the fields and into the protection of the barn, bellowing in protest as they went.

After going to the bathroom and brushing your teeth, you grabbed a book and climbed back into bed. With as dreary as it was outside, you had no doubt you wouldn’t get much reading done, but it was the thought that counted, right?

You weren’t sure how long you had been reading, but the words began to blur together and the book slipped from your fingers, landing against your chest with a dull  _thud_. When the bed shifted, you groaned in irritation, shoving your face into the pillow and groaning. A heavy arm settled over your hip, pulling you into a body whose thickness and taut muscles you had memorized. You shifted against Chris, sighing happily.

“Hey, sleepy head,” Chris purred, his lips on your neck.

You hummed in contentment, not fully realizing that you weren’t dreaming. “Don’t wanna wake up.”

Chris’ whiskers tickled your skin, making you wince and shift against him. “That’s alright,” he assured you, his voice thick and weary. “I could use a nap, too.”

“I like the sound of that,” you confirmed with a yawn. You gripped the hand he had pressed to your stomach and brought it up so you were more or less cuddling with his arm. His chuckle rumbled against your back as he curved his body around yours and your legs tangled together.

The smell of bacon woke you. At first, your heart hammered painfully against your rib cage for approximately ten seconds as you scanned the bedroom with wide eyes. There, at the end of the bed, was Chris’ suitcase. So it  _hadn’t_  been a dream!

You quickly brushed your teeth and ran a brush through your hair before going to find your boyfriend. The sight of him in front of the stove, singing low and under his breath, in front of the stove made you smile. You wrapped your arms around his waist and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“I thought I was dreaming,” you told him. “You should have told me you were coming home.”

Chris gave your hands a squeeze. “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Mission accomplished.” You peered around him to find a pan of bacon sizzling, another pan filled with hash browns, and yet another pan ready to fry some eggs. “Breakfast for dinner?”

“Breakfast for a midnight snack,” he corrected you playfully.

You glanced at the clock as you pulled away from Chris, your hands lingering on his hips. “Damn, I didn’t think I was  _that_ tired.”

“It’s all that fresh air you’ve been getting,” he said with a smile, turning just enough to kiss you before turning his attention back to the food.

“I’ve had to keep myself busy while you’ve been gone. Otherwise, I’d go crazy.” You grabbed a couple of plates and glasses, two sets of silverware, and grabbed the orange juice and butter from the fridge while the bread toasted.

Chris turned off the burners and loaded up each plate before following you to the table. “Sorry.”

“Hey, no,” you admonished him gently, reaching over to grab his hand. “It’s part of the territory that comes with dating you. I’m not complaining.”

“I want you to tell me if that ever happens, if you can’t handle it anymore.”

Confusion rocketed through you. Was he trying to tell you something? “I will.”

He gave you a soft smile and nodded. “Okay, good.”

You could see the anxiety flickering in his eyes, and the sight of it made your stomach drop. “Chris?”

“I was going to wait,” he announced as he stood, your hand now gripped tight in his.

The sight of him dropping to the floor, on one knee, and a nervous smile tugging on his lips made your heart stop beating altogether. “What’s going on?”

“I can’t imagine the rest of my life without you, sweetheart,” Chris said, tugging something from his pocket.

God, you couldn’t breathe and your heart just started kicking into overdrive. Your eyes went wide as Chris opened the small box, revealing a diamond ring. A small gasp escaped you and tears stung your eyes.

“Would you do me the honor of marrying me?” he asked roughly, emotion clogging his throat.

“Yes,” you rasped, tears falling down your face. “Yes!”

Chris let out a shuddering breath as he removed the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger. Once it slipped over your knuckle, you launched yourself at him, catching his lips in a passionate and searing kiss. When you pulled back to breathe, he swept his thumbs across your cheeks, wiping away the tears as best as he could.

“God, I can’t wait to marry you,” he murmured.

With your hand on his chest and his heart hammering against your palm, you couldn’t stop staring at the ring. “Chris, this is… it’s gorgeous. When did you even have the time -”

“First weekend after we started filming,” he interrupted, answering your unfinished question. “I’d known for a while that I wanted to marry you, I just needed to get you a ring.”

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” you assured him. “I don’t need a ring to marry you.”

Chris held your face in his hands and kissed you firmly, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth. “I  _wanted_  to,” he growled. “In fact, there are a lot of things I want to do right now.”

“Oh?” you purred, your arm curling around his waist. “And what did you have in mind?”

With a wink, Chris stood, tugging you with him as he went. Then, he was picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder, his hand clapping loudly against your ass. You gave a yelp of surprise before giving into the giggles that bubbled in your chest.

“I’ll tell you in the bedroom.”


End file.
